


Afraid for Her Life

by pulpriter



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phryne Fisher has reason to be afraid for her life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afraid for Her Life

**Author's Note:**

> No Season 3 spoilers.  
> These characters aren't mine, I just love them.  
> Please review.

Phryne Fisher was afraid for her life. 

She was not staring down the barrel of a gun, believing she had correctly counted the number of bullets used. She had not been poisoned by a madman. She had not had a whole town conspiring against her. She had not been captured to be sold as a slave. 

She was sitting in her own parlour, in the beautiful home that she had created. She was curled up in a chair, feet tucked beneath her. There was music on the Victrola. 

She should have felt safe and warm, but she was afraid for her life—because something had changed. 

She stared emptily at the sumptuous room where she sat, alone. She had never been afraid of being alone; in fact, after her first real attempt at love had turned into abuse, she had preferred to be alone. She enjoyed men in a careless, hedonistic way; let them into her bed, for a limited time; and sent them packing when she tired of them a few hours later. Why not? She flouted convention. She didn’t care what anyone thought. She was young, she was wealthy, she was beholden to no one. She was having the time of her life, she told herself. 

Damn that man who made her want something else! 

She didn’t want this. She didn’t go looking for this. She loved to flirt, to tease, to tempt. It was all just part of the game. How dare he change the rules, without ever meaning to, without even knowing? 

There he had come, so solid, so steady. Slowly, slowly, letting her into his life, a few words at a time, a chance meeting here and there. First he had surprised her when he didn’t dismiss her intelligence, even that first day. Later, she had learned to know his wry humor; his kind, but never naïve, nature; his prodigious intellect; and eventually, some of the pain he carried within. All this, wrapped in steely resolve and determination to see justice done. 

Initially, she had found him useful. After that, a kind of friendship developed. Then, it had become an unspoken partnership. Oh, that was the trouble! what was unspoken between them. 

And yet—he had come closer than she to speaking of his feelings, and once—twice, almost—to acting on them. 

But Phryne was the brave one, wasn’t she? Doing what she wanted, when she wanted?

She tucked her feet under her a little more tightly, and hugged herself. Everything was topsy-turvy. She had never intended to let any man disturb her peace. When had her peace become unsatisfying? 

Phryne was so deep in thought that she was startled when Mr. Butler opened the parlour door and announced, “Inspector Robinson, Miss.” Mr. Butler left the room, and there before her stood the subject of her reverie. 

His eyes were tired, and dark; his stance, upright, but not inflexible; and ghosting around his face was a part of a smile. When he met her eyes, it was as if he knew she could see all the way into his soul—and he let her. 

Phryne Fisher was afraid for her life. This man made her question everything she thought she wanted. Her heart leapt at the sight of him.


End file.
